She’s sexy, former military, and dealing with the past when it smacks her in the face
Wednesday, February 28th, 2018

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Day Three Military Heroes

Without Warning

Vigilance Book #2

When you don’t know how the story will end . . .

After years of hard work honing his craft, Blake Morgan is now an international bestselling author. But one thing he never imagined was that his fictional world would become all too real. When a stalker turns Blake’s latest book tour into a treacherous and nearly deadly trap, it’s time for Blake to hire protection. But the body assigned to keep an eye on him is someone he never wants out of his sight . . .

As a bodyguard for Vigilance, the private security agency in Blake’s hometown of Arrowhead Bay, Samantha Quenel, former Army MP, has found the perfect outlet for her military experience. But her latest client is also a former high school flame, which might explain her willingness to protect Blake at all costs—even if that means staying in the same room with him, on the same bed, under the same torrid sheets . . .

I know what you did.


Blake Morgan stared at the piece of paper in his hand, pulse accelerating, a tiny finger of ice slithering down his spine. Again. Someone had left it again. A message with the same words.


He looked around to see if he could spot whoever this was, the familiar fear gripping him, his stomach knotting. But he knew he’d see nothing. He never did. Whoever this was moved like a ghost, silent and unseen, leaving his taunting messages. If he wanted to keep Blake on edge, he was doing a damn good job of it. In a fit of anger, Blake crumpled the paper and stuck it in the drink holder of the car. He wasn’t going to let some unknown asshole frighten him. He’d faced worse than this.

He’d found the damn stupid note stuck under his windshield wiper when he went to get his car from the hotel parking garage. Anyone could have done it. Who paid attention to cars in a parking garage, anyway? And why would they? But Jesus. How the hell had someone known which car was his? It was a rental, for crap’s sake.

Wait! Were those footsteps? Was someone running toward him? Away from him? A car door slammed somewhere and an engine turned over. He looked around, wondering if he’d see someone hiding in the shadows, every nerve on high alert.

Okay, get your shit together. You aren’t a character in one of your books.










Day 2 Military/Thriller week. Today I t’s the Marines
Tuesday, February 27th, 2018

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Hide and Seek

Logan Malek distinguished himself as a Force Recon Marine. Now he carries that same dedication and the same skills to his role as a special agent with high security and covert agency Vigilance.


Anything can happen when you let your guard down . . .

After receiving a violent threat on the heels of her father’s disappearance from the town of Arrowhead Bay, Devon Cole fears for her life—until Vigilance, a local private security agency, steps in to shield her from danger. Although she isn’t usually quick to surrender her freedom, she has no problem stripping her defenses for her new sexy bodyguard . . .

Tortured by the painful memory of lost love, Logan Malik is determined not to fall for a client again. So when he’s tasked with watching over Devon day and night, he’s focused on doing his job. Day is no problem, but as tensions rise at night, nothing can protect them from giving in to unbridled passion . . .




“Your father is missing.”

Devyn Cole tightened her grip on her cell phone and tried to make sense of what Sheridan March had just told her, as fear swept through her. Maybe she hadn’t heard right.

“What do you mean, missing?”

“The Coast Guard found the Princess Devyn drifting five miles off shore early this morning,” the Arrowhead Bay Chief of Police explained. “But there’s no sign of him anywhere. And no clue to anything in the house. We went through every inch of it. The alarm was fried, probably needs to be replaced, but otherwise the place was clean as a whistle.”

Devyn clutched the phone. “Was there anything on the boat? Something he might have had with him that could give us a clue?”


“Where’s the boat now. Would the Coast Guard hold onto it?”

“In its slip at the Bayside Marina. After the Guard went over every inch of it they had one of the men on the cutter bring it back in and berth it. I have the keys.”

Devyn swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. “When was the last time anyone saw him?”




It’s military/thriller week in Desiree’s blogtown! Today it’s Delta Force
Monday, February 26th, 2018


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Suspense! Romance! Military heroes!

This week I’ll be honoring all of them, and there are some special treats coming up.


Four strong men, four strong women

People who have learned that nothing good lasts

Can they make their relationships work?

They are a four-man Delta Force Reconnaissance/Sniper team whose assignments target key terrorists and eliminate them. They have just returned from three back-to-back missions, physically and emotionally exhausted and definitely in need of some really good R&R. With two weeks before they need to report back they decide to regroup at the ranch in Texas owned by one of the team members, Slade Donovan. They can spend the time drinking, hunting, riding horses and just chilling out.

But the men of this team have something else in common, too. They are all getting older, now in their late thirties, and they want something more than a temporary fix for loneliness. They want to find the right woman and settle down with her so they each have someone waiting for them when they’re home between missions.

Slade is close friends with a couple, JAG Commander Paul Hutton and his wife Melinda. The Huttons throw a party for Slade and his men the second night they are in San Antonio. A large crowd of people attends the party. Little do they realize that not just one of them but all of them will meet the woman meant for them at this gathering. For some it will be an instant connection. For others, a relationship that grows each time he returns to San Antonio. But even for them the relationship has a good foundation and keeps them grounded when they undertake their dangerous missions.

First up! Book #1 Unconditional Surrender

Had he found her again only to lose her to a stalker?

Slade Donovan and Kari Malone shared one anonymous night of hot sex. Five years later unexpected circumstances throw them together again and what’s between them burns hotter than ever. But as a member of Delta Force, Slade is wary of relationships, drawn to Kari on the one hand and hesitant on the other.

Kari has her own demons, the stalker she moved to escape who seems to track her everywhere. As the unknown stalker ramps up his game, it will take the Delta Force team to rescue her, and the danger to show them both that what they have is electric, erotic and real.








Monday, January 29th, 2018

Hide and Seek

Beginning today, for seven days, my highly acclaimed romantic thriller, HIDE AND SEEK, will be on special promotion for just 99 cents.If you have not read the book yet, here is your chance to get it for the low, low price of 99 cents. Kensington Publishing and I like to be kind to your pocketbooks!

Hide and Seek combines hot romance and thrilling suspense in Desiree Holt’s new sizzling romantic suspense series.”
—Allison Brennan, New York Times bestselling author of the Lucy Kincaid series

Hide and Seek is an emotional romantic suspense with escalating stakes, compelling and unforgettable characters, a world that feels real enough to walk into, and scintillating sex in Desiree Holt’s unabashed style. Holt savors her mystery revelations to make a truly satisfying read, but like all good things, she leaves a reader hungry for more.”

—Jordan Dane – National Bestselling, Critically-Acclaimed Author of the Sweet Justice Series

Suspense is Ms. Holt’s middle name with her books and Hide and Seek had me on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what would happen next! ~ Rosalie, Guilty Pleasures

—As this new series opens, there is a lot of action packed into this short, fast-moving adventure set in Florida. Being on the run from a drug cartel is hazardous enough, but when a family member is inadvertently caught up in the chase, the stakes are much higher. The story does not let up on intensity, and the love story that quickly develops is entirely believable.

RT Book Reviews


Anything can happen when you let your guard down . . .

After receiving a violent threat on the heels of her father’s disappearance from the town of Arrowhead Bay, Devon Cole fears for her life—until Vigilance, a local private security agency, steps in to shield her from danger. Although she isn’t usually quick to surrender her freedom, she has no problem stripping her defenses for her new sexy bodyguard . . .

Tortured by the painful memory of lost love, Logan Malik is determined not to fall for a client again. So when he’s tasked with watching over Devon day and night, he’s focused on doing his job. Day is no problem, but as tensions rise at night, nothing can protect them from giving in to unbridled passion . . .


He fixed a fresh cup of coffee for himself and carried it over to the floor to ceiling window in the living room. The sun was just making an appearance, and from the elevated site of the house he could see it cast its rays on Arrowhead Bay, the tiny body of water that gave the town its name. From his vantage point he could see the marina with its floating docks and the rows of boats in their slips. The Driftwood, the restaurant adjacent to the marina, wasn’t open for business yet but the Coffee Pot was. The little diner that served coffee and fresh pastries and breakfast sandwiches for people going out in their boats, whether for business or pleasure, already had its lights on.

The ambience of Arrowhead Bay was a big portion of why he’d chosen to live here. He could get excitement anywhere in the world, on a job or on vacation. Vigilance agents weren’t required to live here, only to show up for their assignments and at least a week of conditioning between jobs. But this place was special. Here was where he recharged his batteries and maintained his humanity, often after jobs he was afraid would rob him of it. Right now he hoped it would settle his brain and help him understand this situation with Devyn.

The rule at Vigilance about involvement with clients was a sticky wicket. Avery was very strong about that and he’d never stepped over the line. Not once. He had a well-earned rep for no involvement with anyone. Ginger Brody, the top computer expert at Vigilance, teased him by calling him Mr. Ice Box because she said he could keep his emotions locked down. Where was Mr. Ice Box now?

Gone, the moment Devyn Cole barreled her way into his life. He’d never expected to meet someone again who hit him right where he lived physically and emotionally. The way Amanda had. Same latent sexuality, same courage and determination, same…everything. And no, he wasn’t substituting. He could have done that many times before. Either fate was giving him the famous fickle finger or he was being given another chance. He wished he knew which it was.

He still remembered the feel of Devyn’s body in his hands when he lifted her from her car. The way she fit against him when he carried her away from it. The light scent of whatever she shampooed her hair with. He’d had a lot of trouble hiding the fact his cock was hard as a spike.

Control, he urged himself. Get your shit together.

The last thing he wanted to do was fall on her like some sex-starved maniac, because this was about a whole lot more than just sex.

“That’s one of the things I love about this house.”

Devyn’s voice behind him startled him. He gave himself a swift mental kick in the ass that he hadn’t even heard her come up behind him. Some bodyguard he was. He was too busy thinking of doing other things to her body besides guarding it.

She moved to his side, holding her own mug of coffee. When he glanced sideways at her his unrepentant shaft raised its head and whispered My turn. He hadn’t realized it last night but whatever she slept in was made of thin, soft material that draped her body, outlining her breasts, her hips, and her most splendid ass. He wanted to coast his hands over her, feeling every dip and swell and curve.

Holy fucking shit.

Maybe he could hit himself on the head with a hammer.

“The view.” She said it as if he was in some way mentally deficient and didn’t know what she meant.

“Yes. The view. I can see why you’d love it so much.”

“I’d come and stand here in this very spot,” she went on, “looking out toward the water. I could almost feel the sun on my skin, and smell the salty breeze from the water. And somehow for those few minutes I could make myself believe that everything was okay. That my father hadn’t turned into someone I no longer knew.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.

She shrugged then took a sip of her coffee. “Nothing you can do about it. Nothing I could do about it. He just closed himself off more and more, until there was no way for me to reach him.”

“Yet you kept coming to see him,” he reminded her.

“Yes. We’d been doing so great together and then suddenly it all went sideways. Because I kept hoping under all that remote exterior I’d somehow find my father. I didn’t realize he’d already disappeared.”

She sat heavily on the couch, placed her mug on a little side table and dropped her head into her hands. Logan wasn’t sure exactly what to do so he sat beside her, trying to take his cues from her. He was stunned when she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, her face still buried in her hands. It was an automatic reaction for his arm to go around her and hold her against his body. His very misbehaving body.

She was soft and warm, and a faint scent of vanilla and jasmine clung to her. Without even realizing he was doing it he touched his mouth to her temple and kissed it softly. He tensed at once, waiting for her to push him away or jump up and ask him what he was doing. She did neither of those things. Instead she pressed even closer to him, her breath whispering across the hollow of his throat where his pulse now pounded like a jackhammer.

“Devyn, listen.”

“Listen to what? Do you have answers for me? I hardly slept last night. I kept remembering those two men and what they wanted to do. And the phone calls, from someone equally as unfriendly. Just hold me for a little while, Logan. Okay?” She looked up at him. “Can that be part of your bodyguard duties?”

He swallowed a laugh. “Honey, what I’m thinking of has nothing to do with guarding your body.”











Meet Trixie, the feisty heroine of Sayara St.Clair’s newest release, Master Me
Monday, January 29th, 2018




(Dante’s Purgatory, Book 3)

By Sayara St. Clair

Trixie Meier, a club submissive who’s tired of being pushed around, has decided she’d rather be on the other end of the whip. She’s set her sights on Xavier Adams—the most enigmatic and unapproachable man in the club. Xavier’s a regular Mr. Darcy. If Mr. Darcy was covered in tattoos, wore black leather, and was built like a Sherman tank.

Xavier has skeletons in his closet. He’s done bad, bad things. And though Trixie might be feisty and off-the-wall, she’s way too sweet for the likes of him. That’s what he tells himself just before he starts stalking her.

When Xavier finds out Trixie doesn’t want to submit to him, but wants to master him instead, he thinks it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. Because a big, scary guy like him, submitting to that tiny, crazy-ass woman is just ludicrous. Right?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Conversing with Xavier Adams is as about as effective as talking to a brick wall. A sexy wall, that smells really good and makes you want to rub yourself up against in a completely inappropriate and pervy manner.

Not that there are many ways to rub yourself against a wall that aren’t inappropriate and pervy.”

—Trixie Meier


“Trixie Meier is a kind, generous soul. She helps people, is a vegetarian because she can’t stand the thought of animals being hurt, and she hugs puppies in her spare time. She’s as sweet as they come—way too good for a guy like me.”

—Xavier Adams


“I love rock climbing, skydiving and anything that gives me an adrenaline rush. Now I want to dominate Xavier. Wonder if I’m taking this “I love a challenge” attitude a little too far.”

—Trixie Meier


“Trixie wants to dominate me?

She’s the craziest bloody woman on the face of this earth!”

—Xavier Adams





W.T.F?! “X-X-Xavier?”


Trixie let out an explosive breath, like a sigh being shot out of a canon. “Motherhumping shit-biscuits, you scared the crap out of me!” She clutched her chest and doubled over, feeling as though her heart was going to explode.

Then Xavier was right beside her, one big hand on her shoulder, the other rubbing her back, and he was saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

They stayed that way for quite a while, with him rubbing her back in comforting circles and telling her that everything was okay in his deep, rumbly voice.

When her heart rate calmed and the adrenaline wore off a bit, though, Trixie started shivering again.

“Hey, you’re freezing.” Xavier stood and pulled her to her feet. He rubbed up and down her arms vigorously to generate heat, then wrapped his arms around her and hugged.

Trixie was still for a moment, just absorbing the feeling. Xavier was so ridiculously huge, she felt smaller than she ever had before. But instead of it being threatening, she felt safe in there, all wrapped up in him.

There was a question that needed to be asked, but not wanting to ruin the unexpected Xavier-hug moment, she burrowed her nose into his chest and breathed him in. He didn’t smell of cologne, just natural man scent that screamed big alpha male. And sex. It definitely screamed sex.

But while Trixie was contemplating generating more heat by rubbing up against his thick, hard…thigh, he disengaged.

Damn it all.

He bent down and pulled a stupendously large anorak from a duffel bag at their feet. Then he put her in it, dressing her as though she were a doll. And she didn’t give a shit because it was Xavier, and he was interacting. Plus, she wanted to know what he was going to do next. The whole situation was intriguing. Apart from the screaming bit at the beginning, because holy exploding inflatable butt plugs, that had been frightening to almost soil-your-pants proportions.

What he did next was turn on a camping lantern, and then he started building a fire where Trixie had built one the previous night.

He was deft at fire building, that was for sure, and Trixie realized just how attractive that trait was. Her inner cavegirl was obviously rising to the surface. Next, he’d be hunting and bringing her a dead animal to eat, and she’d be all, “Oooh, ah, you’re my hero.” Even though she didn’t eat meat. Perhaps he’d kill her a “tofudebeest,” like the one in her favorite Gary Larson comic.

She chuckled at the mental image of the three pissed-off lionesses when they realized they’d killed one of the Serengeti’s “obnoxious health antelopes.”

“What are you laughing about?” asked Xavier over his shoulder.

“Ah, just pondering a tofudebeest, actually,” she answered, getting ready to explain the concept.

“By Larson?”

“Oh my God, yeah, that one. You like his stuff?”


“I have a book of his comics that I used to read when I was a kid. Still do sometimes, when I need a laugh.”

“Me too,” he said, and started pulling food out of his duffel bag.

What the dickens was happening here? They were…bonding…over shared experiences? Humorous comic books, no less. Plus, Xavier was preparing food. And talking.

Speaking of talking—there was a matter of the question that needed asking.

“Xavier, what are you doing here?”

He stilled in the act of opening a can of baked beans. She watched his very broad back and waited for an answer.

“I’m making dinner.”

Trixie huffed. “Obviously. But why are you out here at this particular spot, at this particular time? Are you stalking me or something?”

Xavier got to his feet and slowly turned to face her. He fixed her with one of his stares. There was something going on behind those eyes, but it was nothing she could interpret. Because she didn’t speak Xavier stare.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone.”

Trixie raised a brow. “I go camping all by myself quite often, thanks.”

Xavier didn’t respond.

“No, seriously. I do it all the time.” She stood up straighter in his anorak, which probably made her look like an upright infant wearing a one-person tent. “I like being alone out here. I don’t need anyone to come save me.”

“You were lying out in the open, in the dark, fast asleep and freezing.”

“That’s only because I felt as if someone,” she didn’t say the word, but the “you” was loud and clear, “was watching me. So I came outside to make sure they couldn’t take me by surprise in the tent.”

“And you fell asleep.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was tired, okay?” She was pretty embarrassed about that, and the pitch of her voice edged toward whiny-ness.

Xavier walked over and stopped right in front of her. As he studied her, she wondered why that light-blue gaze of his didn’t seem so icy all of a sudden?

“I know,” he said in a quiet voice. “Things have been a bit rough for you recently.” And then he palmed the side of her face and rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb along her cheek with gentle strokes, over and over.

Her insides did a few backflips, her nipples stood up and cheered, and she held her breath, waiting for the fireworks to start shooting out of her pants. Holy pyrotechnic punani protectors! He just had to rub her face a little, and she turned into a one-woman Fourth of July parade.

Trixie had no idea what the hell was going on. Color her confused.

Yup, if there was a confused crayon, you could color within her lines and call her done.

Something made a weird squealy noise over by the fire. “I forgot to poke the sausages,” said Xavier as he spun around and went back to his camp-dinner preparations.

He forgot to poke the sausages.

Trixie had obviously entered the twilight zone.

She went over and hunkered down next to him as he stabbed at the hissing meat cylinders. “I can’t eat any of those sausages, but thanks for bringing stuff. I can have the beans…oh, and the bread!” she said excitedly, spying a gorgeous-looking, floury loaf sitting there.

“You can have them. They’re soysages.”

Trixie blinked.

Screw the twilight zone. This was an alternate universe! He’d stalked her and brought her soysages? It was an unusual combination, she had to admit. But Trixie liked unusual, so meh, whatevs.

“Did you hunt the tofudebeest yourself?”

“Maybe,” he answered, keeping his focus firmly on the foodstuffs.

“You’re my hero,” she announced as she gave a clap. Her inner cavegirl was silent, too busy picking out fur area rugs for the cave they were gonna be moving into together.

Trixie thought she saw the side of Xavier’s mouth curve ever so slightly, but it was more likely the flickering light of the fire playing on his face.

Then, just like a regular pair of domestic prehistoric partners, they finished preparing the dinner in silence, each mulling over their own thoughts.

Trixie had another burning question she wanted to ask, though. And knowing Xavier wouldn’t answer it directly if he could avoid doing so, she went about it all stealthy-like. As he handed her a plate piled with food, she accepted it with thanks, but followed up with, “I’m not really that hungry, you know.”

Sitting down beside her, he said, “You should be starving by now.”

“No, I’m quite full, actually.”

“How can you be?”

“I ate a lot today. Three squares.”

“No, you didn’t. You only ate a granola b—” He stopped himself, looking extremely annoyed at his slip-up.

Gotcha! Plus…holy crap! He was stalkier than she’d first imagined. “How long you been spying on me, Mr. Adams?”

He speared a soysage. Put it in his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed.

Trixie waited. She was used to waiting for Xavier to speak, but now—for a change—she was expecting him to eventually answer.

“A while.”

He was talking, but she shouldn’t be expecting miracles.

“Where exactly were you last night, Xavier?”

A hunk of bread, torn with his teeth. Chew, chew. Swallow. “Over there,” came the eventual answer, with a chin tip in the general direction.

Okaaaay. “And how’d you find me?”

“Your aunt Rozlyn.”

Trixie was going to ask more about that, but made the quick decision to quiz Aunt Roz when she saw her instead. Because in the forthcoming stakes, Aunt Roz would beat Xavier by a country mile.

She ate quietly for a while, letting Xavier recover from the last three questions. She felt that she should treat him carefully, like a wild animal she wanted to pet, but knew would get freaked out and run away with too much forced contact. She had more questions, though, for later. Many more. What in the devil’s digs is happening here, being the most pressing one.

Usually, Xavier’s aversion to chatting irritated the heck out of her. But at that particular moment, she didn’t mind the silence.

She, herself, was a total chatterbox. Aunt Roz could talk the hind legs, ears and tail off a donkey. The Doms at the club were constantly blabbing at her, “Do this, do that, and now the other thing.”

Her family talked. Every one of them. All the time. Mostly it was creative ways of tooting their own horns. Blah blah, I’m so damn impressive. All in code, of course, so as not to be blatantly obvious. But the message was always received loud and clear. She seemed to constantly be surrounded by people who kept missing good opportunities to shut the hell up.

But Xavier was a quiet and somehow soothing presence. It was actually nice.

After dinner was finished and everything had been washed in a bucket of water, dried and put away, Xavier produced a packet of marshmallows. He got a couple of long sticks, poked a marshmallow on the end of each and handed one to her.

She opened her mouth to say she’d toast it for him, not wanting any for herself because of the animal products they contained, when Xavier said, “They’re vegan ones; no gelatin.”

Trixie’s heart did a crazy little twirl.

Usually when it came to Xavier, it was Trixie’s loins and panties that were affected. This behavior, however, was hitting her somewhere else altogether.

A man could buy flowers and chocolates for any woman—every woman—but Xavier’s offerings of soysages and gelatin-free marshmallows showed specific thought for Trixie. Beneath Xavier’s tough, indifferent shell, there was quite a measure of caring and thoughtfulness hidden.

She wanted to delve into him and discover more, but the thought of her heart getting involved was a tad unnerving.

Her inner cavegirl, though? She gave no shits. That little ho just wanted to lift up her… Wait, what would a vegan cavegirl even be wearing? Not an animal skin. Maybe something with leaves. Whatever.

Anyway, Caveslut was falling onto her back and throwing her legs wide open.

Trixie watched Xavier out of the corner of her eye while she held her stick over the flames. He was staring at his marshmallow and…was there a slight curve to his lips? Must be the flickering light again, playing tricks on her. But when she turned to face him fully, it was definitely there. This guy who never smiled was getting amusement out of a heated marshmallow. Honestly, he was like the world’s biggest conundrum.

Which bizarrely made him even more attractive.

“How do you like yours?” asked Xavier.


“Your marshmallows—how do you like them?”

“Oh…a bit charred on the outside.”

He blew on his and then held it out for her to nibble off his stick. Trixie hid a grin of her own at the nibbling-off-his-stick thoughts. However, her humor evaporated as she watched him watching her, while she ate what she was fed.

In response to both his proximity and his interest, she was being all sexy—until a gob of melted stuff plopped onto her chin. She made a move to swipe it off with a finger, but Xavier grabbed her hand.

No,” he said, his voice commanding, almost vehement.

He rose to his knees and leaned over her, bracing his hands on the ground to either side of her hips. And then he swiped his tongue ever so slowly up over her chin, licking the melted treat from her skin.

He stared at her, his irises like blue fire—an unearthly flame that she knew, without doubt, was going to burn her into freaking oblivion.



SPECIAL DEAL ALERT: To celebrate the release of Master Me, the e-book version of the first in the series (Hurt Me, Heal Me) will be reduced to only $0.99 from the 23rd until the 29th of January!

Get it here: Hurt Me, Heal Me Kindle Countdown Deal.



What people are saying about the Dante’s Purgatory Series:


“St. Clair writes in a way that is deeply alluring and keeps her audience thoroughly engaged and anticipating what could come next. I highly recommend this story and author to not only readers of erotica but all lovers of drama, and impeccably written stories. This was an easy five stars. A brilliantly crafted story!” –Author Angel Strong


“While I imagine many will read the book for the sex scenes, it’s the emotional aspects that hook me (and the prose. Ms St. Clair knows how to write—and write well).” – Author Anna Belfrage


“It’s the kind of story-telling that marks a first-rate writer. I can say with absolute certainty that it made me a fan of Sayara St. Clair.” –Author Ken Stark


“A dazzling story of love and desire.” –Author David Lucero


“It’s breathtaking and heartbreaking. It’s all-consuming. It’s everything any one of us could ask for in a novel, and so much more.” —Bloggers From Down Under



About The Author

If someone told a young Sayara St. Clair that one day she would be an erotic/paranormal-romance-writing Aussie expat living in Thailand, she would have snort laughed and yelled, “You. Be. Crazy!”

If someone told her the same thing now, she would not yell, only nod solemnly. Because that actually happened.


Sayara has a science degree, with majors in both microbiology and biochemistry. Working in the fields of serology and tissue banking, she got to do lots of cool and sometimes slightly weird stuff. She was employed as the manager/buyer for furniture retail stores, where she had a chance to unleash her inner interior decorator. (Interior design is one of her great passions.) And for a time, she taught English to students in Asia. (Hanging about in a roomful of extremely loud, pint-sized humans is not one of her great passions.) She has written: ads for TV, print and radio; real estate brochures; website copy; and a screenplay. Now she’s writing fiction and has discovered it’s her favorite thing to do. She’s also learned that writing sultry romances is so much more fun than writing dry old scientific journal articles. No one has sex in scientific journal articles. Not the ones she wrote anyway.


When not writing, she may be most commonly found in a horizontal position reading, in the kitchen baking, in the garden planting, or somewhere else singing at the top of her lungs. She loves music and is prone to spontaneous bouts of dancing.


With regards to vampires and chocolate: she bites one on a daily basis and has had a lifelong obsession with the other. And she’s not telling which one’s which.



Note from the author: I laughed like a loon while writing this book. I also cried. And fell a little in love with the characters. I really hope you enjoy reading Trixie and Xavier’s story.

x Sayara





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